


On the Subject of Cecil Kyle

by wishwashington



Category: Red vs. Blue
Genre: Based on rvb fan guide info, Canon-Typical Violence, Grudges
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-12
Updated: 2015-12-12
Packaged: 2018-05-06 06:25:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 968
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5406392
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wishwashington/pseuds/wishwashington
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Based on the audio transcript included in the Red vs Blue Ultimate Fan Guide. Wash recalls everything that happened to him in his childhood having to do with that name, Cecil fucking Kyle.</p>
            </blockquote>





	On the Subject of Cecil Kyle

Cecil Kyle. The name made bile rise in his throat and his hair stand on end. Cecil fucking Kyle. The tall brunette that used to flick his ears on the bus. Looking back, Wash did make himself an easy target, but he still didn’t believe that was reason to bully him. He couldn’t help that his ears were too big for his head. He couldn’t help all of the freckles on his face that seemed a bit out of place. He couldn’t help that he lived in a family that barely had enough money to get by. He couldn’t help that he didn’t have much in the way to entertain himself and had to find other ways to do so. Perhaps, he could have helped his case by not being so strange about how he chose to entertain himself.

He was the outcast, the weirdo. He was the kid with no friends. He was the kid who talked to shadows and ran in front of cars to save animals. He had many hospital bills to prove that. It was because of these numerous experiences that Wash decided that cars hate him. 

So when someone started talking to him on the bus, he was more than excited. A real friend! Someone he could talk to without getting weird looks at school! But he wasn’t as nice as the shadows he befriended. 

“Hey, Dumbo,” a flick to the ears, “whatcha doin’?” 

“Reading. Why?” 

“You can read? That’s a surprise.” 

“Yeah…” Wash paused not sure why that was surprising. “Can you not read?” 

“Of course I can. Everyone can read, idiot.” 

The encounters were more innocent at the start, but the longer they talked, the more everything changed. Wash would sit down in his seat only to sit down it something squishy and get flicked in the ear. 

“Hey, Dumbo, I think you just sat in something.” Wash stood, frowning at the seat. Why was there cheese on the bus? Cecil would just laugh hysterically, catching everyone’s attention. “Look, guys. Dumbo’s got cheese on his ass!” 

And that’s when Wash started disliking Cecil. He’d try to ignore the flicking of his ears, but the longer it went on, the angrier he got. 

“What do you want?” 

“What? Can’t I just talk to my _friend_?” 

“We aren’t friends.” 

“Yes, we are! What’s got you in a sour mood, Dumbo? Mommy come home late again? Bet she brought home with her too, didn’t she?” 

“Stop talking to me.” 

“How come you don’t look like your sisters, huh?” He flicked Wash’s ear again. “They’re both pretty with long brown hair and clear skin. And look at you. You’re blonde with freckles and blue eyes. Did mommy have some fun with one of her clients? Shame. Must have been one ugly dude. Hey, Dumbo,” another flick, “hey, you listening to me?” 

“Shut up.” 

“Excuse me?” 

“I said shut up.” 

“That’s no way to talk to your friend. All I’m trying to do is figure out who your daddy is. My dad said you’re mom sleeps around with every guy in town. It could be anyone. Hey, maybe we’re brothers!” 

It was that moment Wash decided he hated Cecil. Instead of talking to shadows, he fought them. They all bore Cecil’s face. They all mocked him with that overly annoying voice. They all cried the same way as Wash tried to kill them. 

Cecil didn’t bother him for three years, having switched buses and Wash nearly forgot about him. Nearly. In his dreams, he still heard his voice and still squeezed his throat until he couldn’t hear it anymore. During the day, he was more focused on schoolwork to worry about past bullies. 

That was until he came out of the bathroom to see him there, washing his hands. Rage ran through him, and, before he knew it, his hand was firmly tangled through Cecil’s hair and he was smashing his face into the mirror over and over again. The mirror shattered after the second hit and blood started staining the sink after the third. Cecil seemed beyond confused, and that pissed Wash off even more. He didn’t know who was doing this. 

Wash let up, letting go of the boy’s hair before throwing him onto the ground. Blood was flowing from his forehead and staining his clothes. “David?” The pure confusion and fear rang in Wash’s ears. He was _scared_ of him, and it felt good. He _wanted_ him to be scared. 

Wash climbed on top of him, punching him with all the strength he could muster. He wasn’t sure how long it was before hands were pulling him off of Cecil. 

“What’s going on in here?” A teacher demanded glaring at Wash. All he could do was smirk. Cecil had learned his lesson. And he was sure every other kid did as well. He didn’t care that he just hurt someone. He didn’t care that Cecil had memory problems after he woke up or that all he remembered well was fear. He never spoke and was always looking over his shoulder. He especially didn’t care when he got put in a psych ward after having a panic attack induced by hearing the name David. 

Wash didn’t care because all of this meant that he could be left in peace. No one would mess with him or his family. That’s all that mattered to him. As long as those he cares about are safe, it doesn’t matter who gets hurt. 

It was that fact that got him into the military, Project Freelancer, and eventually the Blue team. The Blues may not have understood that, but they still trusted him. And Wash would do anything for them, even if it meant getting himself killed. And that’s exactly what he did when Locus came to attack them.


End file.
